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Being Mad on Twitter

1.11.2012

I have some wonderful new tattoos on my ass by the incredible Cris Cleen, who I love, and I posted a picture of them on twitter, which got many favorable comments but there were two negative ones, and I blew a fucking gasket. I screamed out loud and tracked the perps down and blocked them, but not before really ramming it to them in the strongest language I could use. It was over the top and really kind of ridiculous, but I cannot help myself.

Some outside facebook observer said that my “language” was too much and told me that I had “lost a fan” because she couldn’t condone my “language”. I am sorry for that, as I love my fans, and it sucks to lose one, but obviously she doesn’t understand that when you grow up the way that I did, with kids at school throwing rocks at my face because they hated it because it was so ugly to them and they wanted the blood from my wounds to cover it so it wouldn’t have to be seen and at summer camps stuffed dog shit in my sleeping bag because I was told time and again that I looked like shit – and that I had to empty myself in the dark forest and still sleep in smelling that shit all that night and for weeks after because my family was too poor to afford a new one, my “language” is on the strong side. I apologize for offending the former fan, but I am only myself. That is all I can be, and if I must apologize for that, I don’t mind. All I am trying to say is that no young girl should be told she is ugly. If she is, you kill her spirit, and she may grow up like me, and lose a fan.

I grew up hard and am still hard and I don’t care. I did not choose this face or this body and I have learned to live with it and love it and celebrate it and adorn it with tremendous drawings from the greatest artists in the world and I feel good and powerful like a nation that has never been free and now after many hard won victories is finally fucking free. I am beautiful and I am finally fucking free.

I fly my flag of self esteem for all those who have been told they were ugly and fat and hurt and shamed and violated and abused for the way they look and told time and time again that they were ‘different’ and therefore unlovable. Come to me and I will tell you and show you how beautiful and loved you are and you will see it and feel it and know it and then look in the mirror and truly believe it. If you are offended by my anger and my might at defending my borders and my people you do not deserve entry into my beloved and magnificent country.

If you were raised lovingly and told you were perfect and beautiful and loved and the best at all things, I am just jealous. You had it much better, and so you really should spread that love around as opposed to judging those like me who never had that, never knew what it was like and never could even imagine it. I could learn from you instead of feeling judged by you. Give the less loved and less cared for and less treasured a chance. If I had that opportunity, then my language and attitude might not be so offensive. If I had been told once when I was a little girl that I was pretty (other than when I was being sexually molested – that doesn’t count) it might have made me nicer. It just didn’t happen. So I had to make do and make up for it myself. And that made me a bit on the edgy side. It made me a bit of a bitch.

When someone says something negative about my face or body I will always and forever just completely lose my shit, because I have so much hatred in me, a violence that lies just beneath the surface of my delightfully illustrated skin. Being called ugly and fat and disgusting to look at from the time I could barely understand what the words meant has scarred me so deep inside that I have learned to hunt, stalk, claim, own and defend my own loveliness and my image of myself as stunningly gorgeous with a ruthlessness and a defensiveness that I fear for anyone who casually or jokingly questions it, as my anger and rage combined with my intense and fearsome command of words create insults meant to maim, kill and destroy.

Things I could say should be left unheard and unsaid because I am not willing to be the bigger person. I do not take the high road. I take the low road and blows below the belt are my absolute favorite. The best revenge is not living well. The best revenge is revenge. My mouth and mind and typing fingers are weapons of mass destruction and I pity those ignorant idiots who would leave insults about mine or any women’s bodies in comment boxes because there’s ways of hunting people down. Lots and lots of ways. It’s not as anonymous as they think, as stupid as they are.

I’d like to say things that would haunt them for the rest of their days, because their hideous words stay with me eternally. Their insipid spouts of “no fat chicks” are branded onto my soul, so they must reap what they sow. If I am in my worst way and I talk to you, you will know you have been talked to. I want to punish you with the unforgettable shit you will take to your grave and hurt you long after you are dead in the ground. may my poison bore holes in your dry, decaying bones. I am not proud of this, but it’s just the way this life has made me.

I want to defend the children that we still are inside, the fragile sensitive souls who no matter how much we tried were still told we were not good enough. I want to make the world safe and better and happy for us. We deserve beauty, love, respect, admiration, kindness and compassion. If we don’t get it, there will be hell to pay. I am no saint, but I am here for you and me. I am here for us, and I am doing the best I can.

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You may have lost a fan in that facebook broad, but for what it’s worth, you have gained a fan – and a citizen of your country – in me.

I am only just now able to start attempting to deal with rape & sodomy that happened in 1984-85 at the hands of a relative, and I find myself very much alone. This is a difficult time for me. I am thankful I stumbled upon your “Fuck you Karl Lagerfeld and fuck your fucking glasses” blog post on Gawker, because it brought me to your twitter post, which brought me to you. And Margaret – you are beautiful, and you are funny, and you are so much more than all the things that are mere words that I can tell you here. You are amazing, and I am thankful to have you, because right now I need a lifeline, and for a time, that will be you until I can get my shit together. I look forward to coming to your site and reading your blog and seeing your tweets when I think about fucking twitter and remember to check it, because I fucking hate it. But I am so thankful to have found you, you amazing woman, right now; and I am so thankful to have you defending the damaged child inside. Just – THANK YOU, Margaret.

I am already a fan of yours but I just read an article directed toward Karl Lagerfeld regarding Adele (genius woman that she is!!)
Thank you!!!
Megwetch!!
I so appreciate everything you said and how you expressed yourself!!!
I feel that you, Margaret and Adele are phenomenal women!
You are the role models I want younger women (and older women alike) to shine in their lives!
You are beautiful and your words are bang on!
Keep up the good work!

Karl Lagerfeld has to wear those starched collars (the same style as Don Cherry btw, an idiot from my home and Native land) Remember the movie “Weekend at Bernie’s?”….Karl has to wear those starched collars to hold his head up ….he has to use self tanners and wear sunglasses ….he has to drink formaldehyde and diet pop (same thing) …because he is the living dead!!

To those kids that bullied you …and me …and so many others …Screw them!! Ha ha ha! They were wrong! When you speak of those idiots that hurt you, you give so many of us strength.

Amazing and brilliant. You rock, Margaret. And you stomp cockroaches who badly need stomping. This needs to be said, and often. I have no doubt that you gained a thousand new fans to replace the one you lost.

And getting to see your gorgeous, newly illustrated derrière was just icing on the cake.

You’re angry, girl, and you got a right to be. I think your anger is not hate, and even your anger is balanced by your love. I just hope you learn a little Zen sometime and chill out, even around assholes who piss you off. Best revenge is to be happy anyway. Thanks for making me laugh so much, love ya hon! *hugs* -Wills

You are lovely and wonderful. And exactly right on the money with the intolerance of the bullshit. No one, ever, should tell anyone they are ugly or fat or whatever… For any reason. And I admire you for standing up and telling those people who do to shut the hell up. Rock on….

Margaret, I FUCKING LOVE YOU! I always have, from the first time I saw our stand-up comedy, and I have nothing but love for you all the years after. And every time I think i can’t love you more, you amaze me further. Marry me??? You are awesome, you are a warrior, and never let anyone dampen your spirit! ~ Veldrina

I am doing an art project called Body Politics. I will be exhibiting it at a giant event in DC where I am one little artist among hundreds. It is interactive and this is my third year doing it. I do it because I too have been scarred. I do it to help other women and girls feel beautiful.

I invite people to talk about their bodies. And the bodies of the women I have photographed. To leave notes and comments. I question their beliefs about what is beautiful. I am taking the art project a bit further this year and I am going to let people write on my nearly nude body their feelings about it. This makes me feel very vulnerable but I think in the end it will make me feel powerful too, because even though I am afraid, I will have done it.

Your anger and scars are proof to me that it is vital for a girl to grow up feeling lovely. And if she does not, she will be full of scars. My own scars at not feeling lovely are proof that even strong goddesses like us can be hurt and we have to stand up for the girls who need to feel lovely. To tell them not only are they lovely – but THEY are the ones who decide what lovely is. Not some arbitrary advertiser. Not some seller of beauty products. Not some diet guru.

Years ago – before blogs – we had “homepages.” And on our homepages on the internet we had “guestbooks” – this was the late 90s. I had a homepage and a guestbook. There were photos of me. Some of my pencil drawings. Articles about beauty and quotes and stuff. Including stories about two separate incidents where two little boys approached me and told me I was pretty for no reason at all, other than they thought so. Somebody wrote in my guestbook something like:

Fat people are so funny. Your stories you made up about those little boys thinking you are beautiful are hilarious. You really are disgusting. Your husband must have to roll you in flour to find the wet spot.

****

It was the first time somebody had been that disgustingly rude to me – over the internet or anywhere. I could have deleted the comment, but I didn’t. I left it. And people came to my defense. In any case, I let it sit there and be the awful piece of shit it was and let it be seen for what it was.

No matter what I look like, no matter if I am thin or fat or small breasted or large or muscle or lean — somebody will not think I am attractive. Oh well. I gotta live with that I guess.

You go on girl – kick ass. Call out the bullies. Hit them back. You are awesome.

This was amazing and beautiful and stunning. It made me cry because I’ve heard the words “ugly”, “fat” and “stupid” labeled on me. That never completely goes away. Margaret Cho may have lost a fan but she also gained one today. (And I’m sure many others!)

Margaret, I’ve been a fan and loved you since the first time I saw one of your comedy routines on TV back in the day. You were, and still are, one of the Asian American icons in our society. I’m half Korean, and I was blown away to see another Korean receive such notoriety. I love you for your boldness, and your vitriolic reaction to the ignorance thrown at you only deepens that admiration and respect. It saddens me that you have walked such a painful road through life. Know that you are loved.

Good for you. People have some nerve criticizing you. I think you are beautiful, and your tattoos are awesome, I am also a woman with tattoos and I have self esteem issues. They were getting a lot better but then my boyfriend went to prison, where he is now, and I am left living with his mother which is unpleasant often. I struggle with weight and feel very alone and my ink is my form of expression. Good for you.